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La Bastille
Act One – Scene One (A forest of porcelain. A recent spring shower has left shining pools of mercury scattered across the ground. The sun is just rising as the Warden and the Rat named Philippe, the Warden's Assistant, traipse through foliage inspecting the trees.) THE WARDEN: “Have you ever been a tree, Philippe?” (THE WARDEN discernibly slows his pace as he turns his head one hundred and eighty degrees to address his goblin-rat assistant.) THE RAT: (Visibly uncomfortable at having the eyes of an owl peer so intently at him.) “Yes, sir. Pleasant way to spend a hunnert years, sir. 'Til one of my branches rotted off... Sir.” THE WARDEN: (THE WARDEN stops entirely, his head tracking THE RAT independently until he arrives at THE WARDEN'S side.) “Now tell me, have you ever been trapped in a tree? It's an altogether different experience, I can tell you that.” THE RAT: (THE RAT scratches at his ear, a large flea bounding from the spot and onto his forearm.) “Trapped? Not an experience I'm keen on experiencin', sir. 'Specially considerin' my current form and what not, sir.” (THE RAT allows himself a few guffaws at his own joke.) THE WARDEN: "Ah yes, your current form. Any particular reason you would choose to be a rat of all things?" THE RAT: "Well, y'see, sir, I've been hopin' to work my way up to bein' a Rat-King. If'n two heads thinks better than one, I figure seven will make me a right and proper force to be reckoned with." THE WARDEN: (While not difficult for an owl to look skeptical, THE WARDEN is clearly putting some thought and effort into attempting it.) “A noble endeavor, I'm sure. Perhaps that is why I've never consumed a seven headed rat, they are simply beyond my understanding. But back to the point I was going to make. A tree makes for a rather effective living cell, Philippe. And this forest, here, is my Bastille. Being trapped inside of a tree, you don't get to experience its senses. No sensation of gorging on sunlight or water trickling through your xylem to be found. And you don't get to experience your own senses either, the tree being rather inconvenient in the ways of eyes or ears. You lose your identity inside of the tree, just so much extra tissue for the tree to store energy. When you aren't you, it makes it very difficult for 'you' to escape.” (THE WARDEN taps his rod against the nearest tree, its metal ringing off of the porcelain, and a spider-web of cracks appearing.) “The only way out is to kill the tree and cut you out. Carve your identity out of so much dead wood and pulp. A difficult task to complete yourself, from inside the tree.” THE RAT: (Glancing around, his eyes following the echo of the impact, THE RAT licks his lips nervously.) “And what sort of crime gets old Polendina to commit you to a tree, sir?” (Silent and swift, the rod comes down on THE RAT'S shins. Loudly and clumsily, THE RAT drops to the ground. THE WARDEN'S hand claps down on THE RAT'S mouth, head fervently spinning as he listens. Then the head slowly unwinds to stare with eyes that rival the moon into the face of THE RAT.) THE WARDEN: “Their only crime was being in need of repair. For being cruelly given the incorrect form. Boys too solid to be anything but a stout oaken table, a bébé too shrill to not be a whistle, wolves too lazy to not spend life as a footrest, and perhaps, if they are not too careful, rats too unwise in their choice of nickname for the Master to be anything but a doorstop.” (THE WARDEN clasps THE RAT'S hand, and pulls him to his feet.) “This is closer to a hospital than a prison, but not all of the patients are willing, Philippe. Within lie forgeries, lunatics, and deviants that scarcely comprehend their need for rehabilitation. Now grab your Axe, this tree's usefulness has come to an end and the child inside has just begun to serve the Master.” (THE RAT rubs his shins, straightens, and then grasps the Axe tight. Then, with much grumbling, he lets the Axe bite into the tree.) Characters involved in this Chronicle: Penny, Pat Takahashi Category:Fiction